


Take Care of You

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Hot Tea, sick day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 11:10:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8576131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: They wake up Tuesday morning to Toby with the common cold. Happy's got to take care of the doctor now.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ScribeShan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribeShan/gifts).



> For my dear Shan, and also because I love silly domestic fluff.

“There’s something wrong with you,” Happy says, wrinkling her nose, “I mean, like, diagnosable.”

“I’m fine,” Toby says, and the way he sniffles is actually kind of gross. “I’m good. Doctors don’t get sick.”

“Psychiatrist,” Happy corrects, “and I’m pretty sure even you aren’t immune to the common cold.”

“Common cold affects common people,” he replies. “I am far from common.”

Happy watches as his eyes glaze over, his breathing labored and snuffling. “Dude,” she insists, “you’re sick.”

“Am not,” Toby whines. “Hey, you got an extra blanket?”

Happy rolls her eyes. “Get in bed. We’re not going to work today.”

“We’re going to work!” Toby says, and, oh, good lord, is he pouting? “We gotta go to work. I’ve got stuff to do. Who other than I will deconstruct Walter’s big ass ego?” He stands up out of the chair, wobbling just enough that Happy can get him off balance and get him into bed.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” he mumbles. “This is comfortable.”

As he starts to doze off, Happy tucks him in, comforter around his shoulders and an extra fleece blanket on top of him. She makes sure he has a book on his bedside table if he wakes up, and plugs in his phone. She’d be boiling under all those covers, but he looks content.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “You’re gonna be the best mom.”

The words make something warm bubble up in her chest, a mix of excitement and knowledge of something that’s going to happen. “I hope we’ll find out,” she says, “but you’ve gotta knock me up first.”

Toby laughs, eyes still closed. “Good deal.”

And then he’s out, cold.

Happy pulls out her phone and tells Paige that neither of them will be in today, and, according to her, that’s not a problem because, and she quotes, “Nothing is happening today.”

“Good to know,” Happy mutters. “Glad to hear we’d do nothing at work today.”

“It’s a Tuesday!” Paige replies. “Nothing ever happens on Tuesdays in the middle of December.”

“Is that statistically proven?”

“Actually, I could talk to Walter about that –”

“Rhetorical question, Paige,” Happy laughs. “Look, Toby is sick and acting kind of like a big baby. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Unless you want to do paperwork,” Paige replies.

“Got it,” Happy says. “Later.”

She hangs up and turns to find Toby drooling on her pillow, curled up with her blankets wrapped around him like a cocoon.

“Oh boy,” she mutters.

She makes herself coffee and Toby that throat coat stuff he loves so much, and decides to get back into bed, mainly because her phone is dying and that’s where her charger is.

Happy’s comfortable enough, under one blanket instead of Toby’s two, and starts on one of those psychology books Toby keeps insisting she reads. One of those self-understanding things that makes no sense to her. But she’ll read it, if only to get him to stop asking about it.

She gets halfway through the book when Toby wakes up.

“Hey, Doc,” she says. “How are you feeling?”

Toby opens his mouth and moves his lips, but nothing comes out.

“Try that one again,” Happy says.

Still nothing.

She tries not to laugh. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Lost – voice,” he manages in a half-whisper.

“I made you some tea.”

Toby mouths, “Throat coat?”

Happy nods, and Toby just beams at her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, settling in with a book, “I know. I’m an amazing fiancée.”

He pulls at her arm.

“What?” she asks.

He blows her a kiss, still beaming at her like she hung the moon.

“I just made you tea,” she says, a little thrown off. “It’s not like I found the cure for cancer.”

He leans over and pillows his head on the blanket that lay over her leg, wrapping himself up again. He’s got the tiniest smile on his lips.

“You are surprisingly content for somebody who is getting infested with viruses,” Happy muses.

Toby gives her a very deliberate look.

“What?” she asks. “It’s not like we’re going for sexy talk right now.”

Toby settles back down, and Happy doesn’t realize it until a few minutes later, but she’s stroking his hair and he’s practically purring like a kitten. Maybe she should take a hit of that Nyquil.

And then she realizes – maybe he’s just happy the two of them are together.

She doesn’t want to admit this, but she half wishes they could do this every day of their life. Stay home, do nothing. Maybe at least once a week.

She also doesn’t mind that he can’t talk. It’s a bit of a bonus.

Her phone vibrates on the bedside table an hour and three hundred pages later, and Happy snatches it up before it can wake Toby, unsure how he’s going to act if he wakes up miserable this time.

“Hey,” she answers. “Paige, what’s up?”

“Just checking in,” she says. “Also, Walter’s having an issue with his latest project, so I needed an excuse to walk away. Being his sounding board is not great.”

“You’ve got that right,” Happy mutters. “Try being his wife for six years.”

Paige’s little laugh makes Happy wonder, just a tiny bit, what’s behind it. “Can’t imagine that’s easy.”

“I think being married to this nerd is going to be even weirder,” Happy replies. Toby’s still dead asleep, snuggled up against her.

“I think you guys will be fine,” Paige insists. “Better off than you and Walter, at least.”

“Hey, that marriage –” she pauses, not wanting to tip off the NSA agent who is probably listening in on her cell phone. She needs to stop listening to Toby’s conspiracy theories. “ – was a mistake,” she decides on. She hopes Paige gets the hint. Then again, she’s Paige – she’d better get the hint than Happy could ever give it.

Paige replies with a knowing laugh. “Anyway, Walter and I have looked through the files, and we’ve found that you and Toby are both missing about half a dozen reports each.”

“You didn’t call to check in, did you?” Happy groans.

“Came to check in on the progress of those reports,” Paige chirps. “Work on those when you can, okay?”

Happy hangs up on her.

Toby sleeps for another two hours or so, is up long enough for a bowl of soup and a cup of hot tea, and then falls asleep again. Happy’s pretty sure she shouldn’t be this close to him – she’s got an embarrassingly weak immune system ever since that cadmium poisoning and the treatment after it – but she doesn’t want to go anywhere. She wants to stay just where she is.

The rest of the day is lost to reading and sleeping, with a couple cups of coffee for Happy and a disgusting amount of salt water gargling on Toby’s part, but when Toby wakes up the next morning they’re able to go into work and fill out those reports. Toby spends most of the day complaining until somebody either throws another report on his desk or sets a cup of tea in front of him. Sylvester stays as far away from him as possible. Happy totally gets it.

When they get home, Toby announces he’ll feel better after twelve hours of sleep, and collapses into bed at six in the evening. Happy, feeling a bit more fatigued than she expected to be, follows suit after a long shower and a big cup of Toby’s dumb throat coat herself. She doesn’t feel quite as well as she had that morning, and she can tell a headache is coming on.

“Hey, Toby,” she mumbles, curling up into bed next to him, “if I’m sick, you’ll take care of me, right?”

He rolls over, half asleep. “Always.” He opens his eyes as he smiles at her. “You should know that by now.”

Happy manages a laugh, but it feels a little weird in the back of her throat. “I guess I should.

~

Happy wakes up on Thursday morning with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, feeling more tired than she had been when she fell asleep.

“Hey,” she croaks, turning over to Toby.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says with a smile, “how are you feeling?”

“Caught your cold,” she mutters. “No way I’m going into work today.”

He smiles and kisses her forehead. “I’ll take care of you.”

She nods, curling back up under the covers, eyes closed. “Sounds good to me.”


End file.
